


Fair Warning

by pyrrhic_victory



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassian flirting, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, One Shot, POV Julian Bashir, Post-Episode: s03e15 Destiny, Smut, Trans Elim Garak, bare minimum of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrrhic_victory/pseuds/pyrrhic_victory
Summary: After his conversation with Gilora in 'Destiny', Miles warns Julian that Garak has been flirting with him. Julian does not use this information the way he intended.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 37
Kudos: 235





	Fair Warning

**Author's Note:**

> hello! unusual for me, but this one isn't angsty! also, i've never written sex before!! i wanted to practice before i get to the steamier parts of my other fic.
> 
> i also crave more casual trans rep at all times, so here we are.

“How can you say that?” 

Julian stared at Garak, who was wearing his best nonplussed expression. 

“I really don’t understand your objection, doctor. If Duncan was foolish enough to trust Macbeth then frankly, he got what was coming to him.” 

“You can’t seriously believe it’s Duncan’s fault for not preventing his own assassination. He has no reason to suspect Macbeth, he’s always been loyal to him. Duncan just made him a thane!” 

“Thus putting Macbeth in a position to ascend to the throne,” Garak said, as though it was obvious. “Any man in a position of Duncan’s power ought to be wary of those who claim to be his friends. It’s a miracle he lived long enough to see the start of the play!” 

Julian raised his eyebrows. “I dread to ask, but was there anything you  _ did  _ like about it?” 

“In fact, there was. I admired Lady Macbeth, and I sympathised with how she suffered at the gross incompetence of her husband. No wonder the poor woman was driven mad.” 

Julian ramped up his usual disbelief. “She was driven mad by guilt! Didn’t you hear what she was saying?” 

Garak waved his hand dismissively. “Guilt is a pointless emotion that weakens one’s resolve. She says as much to Macbeth early in the play. She is far too strong to succumb to it.”

Julian’s outraged disbelief became a little more real. 

“Only the weak feel remorse for their actions? That’s ridiculous, one of the hardest things you can do is admit you made a mistake and take action to repair it. If you refuse to acknowledge responsibility, you’ll never grow as a person.” 

Garak shook his head with the expression of a teacher despairing at the folly of his pupil. 

“By ‘grow as a person’ I assume you mean ‘become a blind slave to narrow-minded human morality.’ True strength is accepting the consequences and moving on, leaving the past in the past, no matter how immoral or unpopular your actions may be. It is ridiculous to paralyse yourself with useless sentiment when there is nothing to be done after-“ 

“Julian!” O’Brien’s voice rang across the Replimat. He stood a few feet away, looking uncomfortable and wary. “Can I have a word?” 

Julian glanced back at Garak, who waved a hand to indicate he wouldn’t be offended, and crossed the Replimat to Miles. He shifted his body awkwardly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to warn you,” he said, with a low voice and a glance at Garak. Julian looked back too, and Garak smiled placidly. 

“What is it?” 

Miles folded his arms and kicked his foot on the floor. “You and Garak. You argue a lot.” 

“Things can get a little heated from time to time, but it’s all friendly debate. What’s this about?” 

“I don’t think it’s so friendly, Julian. Cardassians-“ Miles dropped his voice to a whisper. “That’s how they, you know.  _ Do things.”  _

“They can be very argumentative, yes,” Julian agreed, not following. 

“No, I mean.” Miles blew out a breath and shot a dirty glare back at Garak. “He’s coming onto you.” 

Julian’s first instinct was to laugh. His second was to re-evaluate every interaction he’d ever had with Garak. And his third was to try and suppress the warmth that had rushed to his face. 

“You know that scientist, Gilora? We argued a bit when we were working on modifying the field emitters, and she thought that meant I wanted to have  _ children  _ with her. It’s like some kind of mating ritual.” 

Julian swallowed. “He’s always been like that,” he said, which didn’t make things look any more innocent, and resisted the urge to look back at his lunch companion. 

Sure, there was harmless flirtation of the more human sort. A hand lingering here and there, a few looks that were a little more desirous than friendly, but nothing concrete. Even when Julian thought his crush must have been embarrassingly, blindingly obvious, Garak had done nothing. 

It was as much an inside joke as Garak pretending to be a simple tailor;  _ wouldn’t it be ridiculous if we meant it?  _

But now- now it seemed he had been doing something after all. 

“Just be careful,” Miles warned. “You want me to get you out of this? Tell him it’s an emergency.” He nodded at Garak. 

“What? No, no. Thanks, Miles. I’ll- uh- I’ll be fine.” 

“If you say so.” Miles seemed reluctant to go. 

“Don’t worry,” Julian reassured him. “I know exactly what to do.” 

When he returned to the table, he didn’t sit down. Garak looked up expectantly. Cardassian hearing wasn’t as acute as human, so he wouldn’t have overheard the very illuminating conversation he’d just had. 

Julian had three options: quit the game, keep playing, or change the rules. 

“I’m sorry, Garak, I’m going to have to cut our lunch short today,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral, regretful. No hint of nerves. 

Garak looked at Miles, who was still doing a bad job of pretending not to stare, and inclined his head. 

“Not to worry, doctor,” he graciously said. “I take it there’s someone bleeding out somewhere who requires your company more urgently than I?” 

“Something like that. But I’d still like to make up for it.” Julian leaned over the table, just a foot or so, enough that when he lowered his voice only Garak would be able to hear him. “Dinner tonight, my quarters?” 

The implication of replicated food made things less romantic, but it was still about as subtle as a red rose held between his teeth. 

No sound came out of Garak’s open mouth for several seconds. 

“This wouldn’t be a misguided effort to assuage your guilt and...grow as a person, would it?” he eventually said, looking like he was waiting for the punchline. 

“Not at all,” Julian breezily said. “Would it make you feel better if I said my convictions in this matter were strictly selfish?”

“Well, that would certainly change things,” Garak conceded. His tongue peeked out to lick his lips for a brief moment. 

“I thought it might. Shall we say 2100?” 

Garak nodded once, still knocked considerably off-course at three years of subtext being brought out of its box and plonked on the table, and that expression alone was enough for Julian to leave the table feeling lighter than he had when he arrived. 

“You dealt with it, then?” Miles cautiously said as he passed him on the way to the infirmary. 

“In a manner of speaking.”

He wondered what Garak had been waiting for all this time. It’s not as though Julian had been very subtle about his attraction, even through the joking nature of their flirting. Maybe Garak was just  _ like that, _ and had no idea that the way he behaved was the way humans flirted, just like Julian had no idea that arguing was the way Cardassians flirted. It was the kind of cultural miscommunication that was just Julian’s luck. 

But Garak was very observant, and a spy to boot, and he'd been living on a station full of humans for three years. He had to know what he was doing. Maybe he wanted to force Julian to ask, but still - three years is a long time to play hard to get. 

Then again, this was Garak. It took Julian two years to even learn his first name. 

He was going around in circles. 

Garak had agreed to dinner, which had been a decidedly unambiguous request, and the look he’d given Julian was enough to squash any doubt that he was interested. Still.  _ Three years.  _ Either Garak had the patience of a saint, or there was something else that held him back from making a move. Hiding his mysterious past, maybe. Maybe the implant. 

He held his hand once. 

But that was over a year ago now. As soon as he’d recovered from withdrawal, the barriers had come up again, and he acted like nothing had ever happened. Only Garak could flirt outrageously and distantly at the same time. 

Julian’s small scrap of self-awareness said that it was probably the forced distance that kept his crush burning strong no matter how many other people he went on dates with. 

Now he thought about it, his infatuation with Jadzia bore remarkable similarities. A much older alien with a lot of worldly experience who was funny, confident and intimidatingly intelligent, and who didn’t seem seriously interested...oh dear. 

He had a type, and it wasn’t what he thought it was. 

He panicked about this while trying to find something to wear. Dinner in his quarters meant he couldn’t just wear his uniform, which meant he’d have to choose an outfit, which meant Garak would look at it and almost certainly judge it poorly. Oh well. Better to make the effort, and perhaps start an argument about his clothing choices. 

In hindsight, he really should have picked up on it. Now he thought back to the Cardassian novels Garak insisted contained compelling romance - which had instead consisted of highly charged and incomprehensible arguments between the ‘lovers’ - and realised his error. Perhaps that had been on purpose, and Garak had been trying to tell him, in his infuriatingly indirect way, what he’d been doing. 

As usual, trying to guess at Garak’s motives from his actions was like drawing a line around a shadow and trying to figure out what was casting it. 

Julian changed, laid the table and after a bit of deliberation, adjusted the environmental controls in his quarters so it was warmer and the lights were dimmer. He was fiddling with the cutlery when the door chimed at exactly 2100. 

“Good evening, doctor.” 

“Hi, Garak.” He found himself rather breathless. Garak looked perfectly put-together, as usual, his elaborately patterned tunic made from rich-looking black and red cloth. His brow raised just a touch, glancing behind Julian at his quarters. “Oh! Come in, come in.” 

He darted back a few steps and Garak stepped gracefully past him, hands behind his back. 

“Have you tried much Earth food? I’m sure it doesn’t measure up to traditional Cardassian cuisine,” Julian said, to which Garak smiled and nodded. “But I think it’s appropriate, given the circumstances.” 

“Circumstances?” Garak repeated. “What circumstances would those be, doctor?” 

This was not going to be like flirting with a normal person. Never mind that he’d been unconsciously doing it for three years - now he knew, it was a whole new challenge. 

Julian offered him a look he hoped was subtly flirtatious. “Trying new things.” 

A pleased smile, and a slight nod. “I see.” Success. 

He replicated several Indian dishes for them to share, explaining each one to an attentive Garak. It was surreal having him in his quarters for such a normal activity. 

“I must say, doctor, I was rather...surprised at your proposal,” Garak said, after a brief silence when they’d both started to eat. Julian glanced up, mouth full of curry, and swallowed. 

“It was unexpected?” 

“We could easily have made up for lunch another day,” Garak said, not answering the question. Maybe Julian hadn’t been as obvious as he thought. 

“Yes, we could have,” he agreed. “Would you prefer that?” 

“And miss having the pleasure of your company all to myself? Not at all. Although,” Garak began, gesturing back and forth with his fork like he was thinking about what to say next, “one does wonder what exactly Chief O’Brien said to you this afternoon to lead us to this point.” 

“Actually, he came to give me quite a serious warning,” Julian said. “He feared for my safety.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes. You see, apparently, Cardassians flirt by arguing.” 

The brow ridges raised, a hand waved dismissively. “That is a vast oversimplification of a time-honoured cultural appreciation of healthy debate.” 

“So a very dangerous Cardassian spy  _ hasn’t  _ been flirting outrageously with me for several years?” 

“I couldn’t possibly say, doctor. You’d have to ask the spy.” 

Julian rolled his eyes and slid into fond exasperation, the state of mind he’d come to reserve just for Garak. 

“I would, if I thought he’d give me a straight answer.”

“And perhaps he would, if he thought you’d react favourably.” Garak’s face was neutral, almost deliberately so, and Julian picked up on something entirely unexpected: he was nervous. 

He’d always envisioned Garak sweeping him off his feet, metaphorically speaking, all confident and quick and clever like he was with everything. But- like many of his assumptions today- he’d apparently been mistaken. 

“And if I said with absolute certainty that I would react very favourably?” 

Garak glanced up, a more genuine smile curling the corners of his mouth. 

“I think he’d worry for your sanity, but be glad of your affection nonetheless.” 

“I hope he’d be a bit more than glad,” Julian said. 

“Well, it’s as I say: you’ll have to ask him.” 

The conversation turned back to Macbeth. Garak maintained his predictably Cardassian opinions on it, of course, but introduced a more playful tone to his argument. Julian wondered how he’d missed that this was absolutely, definitely flirting. 

“I must indulge in human food more often,” Garak remarked, upon finishing his soup. “The spice has a pleasantly warming effect. As do your quarters, I notice.” 

Julian smiled. “I wanted you to be comfortable.”

“That is...very considerate of you, doctor.” The look on Garak’s face was unambiguously warm, too. “You never fail to surprise me. Allow me to return a favour.” He gestured to their empty plates and bowls and stood. Julian quickly rose too and snatched up his own plate before Garak could reach for it. 

“You don’t have to do that. You’re a guest.” 

Garak looked faintly amused as he returned his plate and bowl to the replicator. 

“I am?” 

“Well, yes. I invited you here.” Julian leant past him to put his own things in, and then realised that with the table no longer separating them, Garak was very much  _ there, _ close enough to touch. 

“Yes, you did. A dangerous move.” The eyes, blue and clever and quick, focused completely on him- on his eyes, his lips, his throat. And when they flicked up to his eyes again, he saw that hint of nervousness again. 

Julian smiled a crooked smile and leaned forwards a little. 

“I hope so.” 

If he reached up now, he could touch his face, trace out the ridges there...Garak was waiting, head tilted, watching. His move again, then. 

It only took half a step before he was close enough. 

Four inches, three, two, one- Julian closed his eyes and kissed him. 

There was spice still on his lips, warm and rough, and when he raised his hands to hold at Garak’s face his skin was cool. It had no urgency or desperation- the kiss was slow and Garak’s hand on the back of his neck was gentle, hesitant. It was like he expected Julian to break off at any moment. 

“Are you certain about this?” Garak asked, pulling back for a brief moment. His hand lingered on Julian’s face, thumb tracing back and forth over his cheekbone. 

“I thought that was obvious,” Julian breathed, running his hand down the ridge on Garak’s neck. A look of pain crossed Garak’s face. 

“I need you to be certain.” Julian hadn’t expected this much insecurity. He cupped Garak’s face and kissed him again, slowly and deliberately. He mirrored the motion of his thumb on his cheekbone. 

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Julian said. He kissed Garaks’ cheek, creeping along his jaw with soft attention as Garak’s hands found his shoulders. “You know, I used to fantasise about you seducing me for information.” 

That earned him a chuckle, but it was still so sad, so worried, and Julian didn’t understand why. 

“Fantasy and reality are rather different, my dear. You may find that certain things are not quite what you would expect them to be,” Garak said. 

“Oh!” So  _ that’s  _ what he was worried about. “Don’t worry, Garak. I’ve done my research. I’ll admit I looked up the finer points of Cardassian anatomy a while ago. Just in case.” 

That didn’t seem to reassure him. The opposite, in fact. He sucked in a sharp breath and lowered his hands from Julian’s shoulders. 

“Male Cardassian anatomy.” Garak said the words like a death sentence. 

“Forgive me for assuming,  _ Mister  _ Garak, but yes.” 

“Ah.” 

That was not a promising sound. He wasn’t looking at Julian anymore, staring instead over his shoulder at the wall. 

“Garak?” 

One step back. One to the side. Garak glanced at the door. 

“Doctor, I must preface this by saying that I never expected to care for you as much as I do, nor did I expect you to notice, much less reciprocate. Frankly, the probability of this event was so astronomically small that I never thought...” he cut himself off, and that was almost as frightening as the awful pain in his eyes. Nothing stopped Garak mid-sentence. Not ever. 

“What’s wrong? I’m a doctor, Garak. If you’ve got some kind of condition...”

“A condition. Yes, I suppose that’s one word for it.” Garak risked a single glance at Julian and swallowed like something painful was in his throat. “I’m afraid I’m not quite the man you think I am.”

Julian’s worry turned to calculation. He ran through everything Garak had said, trying to work out what all the pained hints meant when put together.

The realisation of what he was saying flooded over him. 

“I see you understand. My apologies, doctor. You would have been better served researching a different set of Cardassian anatomy.” 

Questions bubbled up faster than he could keep track- transgender people were normal on Earth, but what about Cardassia? Did they have an equivalent? Or was it an awful taboo? Was he born with a mutation?

But he pushed all the questions down at the look of dread on Garak’s face as he set his jaw, head back, chin out. He looked ready to argue, to be interrogated, to be yelled at, rejected. He knew the weight of having a secret coded in his biology. The immense amount of trust it must have taken for him to tell Julian in the first place made him feel honoured. 

“You’ll just have to teach me, then. I prefer to learn by doing.” 

“Doctor?” 

Julian closed the space between them again. Garak was rigid, eyes wide as he reached for his arm slowly and gently to steady him. The muscles beneath his arm were bunched tight. 

“It’s not an issue, Garak. Really.” 

“You’re certain of this?” 

The eyes darted over his face, searching, wanting. 

“I meant every word. I want you.” 

The relief in Garak’s eyes was almost painful to watch. 

“You already have me.” 

He pushed Julian against the wall, mouth working up his neck, body pressed firmly against his, a knee teasing open his thighs so he could lean closer. Garak gave slow, hungry attention to Julian’s neck, his cheek, the underside of his jaw. He read minute little tics in Julian’s body and responded to them before Julian even knew what he was doing.

His hand snaked under Julian’s shirt. The feeling of his skin being kneaded and caressed made him sigh in appreciation and press closer to him. 

“Doctor-” 

“Julian.” 

“...Julian.” Garak paused slightly before continuing to kiss him. 

“Are you going to tell me I can call you Elim, or are you going to make me ask permission?” Julian asked. He’d been waiting for an excuse to show Garak he knew his first name. 

Garak paused again, then laughed softly. 

“You can call me whatever you like.” 

Julian felt a great wave of pleasure and friction when Garak pressed his thigh between his legs and gasped involuntarily. 

“That’s a pretty noise,” Garak said. “I’d love to hear you make it again.” 

He pressed closer and Julian couldn’t help gasping again at the friction. 

“There we go.”

“Sadist,” Julian grumbled. 

The throbbing between his legs got tighter and more earnest as he kissed him harder, and Garak’s hand played across his stomach and ribs. It tickled slightly. 

He wanted to feel Garak’s skin pressed up against his, he wanted to know what his smooth scales felt like rippling beneath his hands. 

“Let me…” He fumbled around the fastening at the front of Garak’s red and black jacket. There was a thick underlayer beneath, because of course there was, and Garak wouldn’t let him put his hands beneath it to feel all his lovely scales until he’d put his jacket on the back of the sofa. 

Julian was hungry and impatient and when Garak turned back from artfully folding his jacket, he pounced on him with kisses and roaming touches under his shirt. His back was hard, tough scales that didn’t flex under his touch, but his stomach had softer, thinner scales that had more give to them. 

He more or less pushed Garak down onto the sofa, and more or less climbed on top of him. It was nice to be able to get onto someone without worrying about crushing them; he usually hooked up with people who were smaller and lighter than he was, but Garak was easily strong enough to carry his weight on his lap without complaints. 

And from the muscles he could feel in his chest and below the softer parts of his waist, he was quite a bit stronger than that. 

He nipped at the ridges on his jaw and ear; they were more flexible than they looked, and perfect to kiss and nibble at. And Garak liked it, from the way he laughed slightly at Julian biting on them. 

His cool blue eyes were focused on Julian alone as he kissed him and felt him, free from their usual veiled double-meanings. 

Julian shuffled closer up his lap and heat spread down his thighs from the friction against his groin. 

Garak noticed. 

He shifted his thigh against Julian’s crotch in a teasing way, smiling as his breath caught. 

“Now that’s not fair,” Julian murmured as he kissed him. 

“Good. Tell me what else you used to fantasise about, hm?” 

“Hm. That.” Garak’s hand moved under his shirt, stroking his bare skin and leaving a cool tingling trail wherever it went. “You, touching me like this. And I thought about you coming into my quarters in the middle of the night and fucking me.” 

“A shame. If I’d known you were so open to the idea, I’d have satisfied us both by now. Although I’m afraid I lack the appropriate equipment. You would have to be the one fucking me, my dear.” 

Julian laughed. He’d never heard him swear before. 

“That’s fine by me.” 

He grew impatient of Garak’s touch being limited by his shirt; he peeled it off and tossed it to the floor. 

Garak clicked his tongue. “So careless with your clothing. You have no idea how that pains me.” 

“Sell me a new one tomorrow,” Julian said. 

“Not if you’re going to treat it like that.” 

Garak cupped his jaw while he kissed him, then let his hand trail down his throat, across his collarbone, down his chest and his stomach, then played with the waistband of his underwear.

“Stop teasing,” Julian complained, edging closer. 

“You’d get bored if I didn’t,” Garak teased. Julian lifted the hem of his shirt and glanced up at him to check whether it was okay to take it off. He smirked and nodded, and let Julian pull it over his head. 

His scales were fascinating; smooth, shining grey that were thick and dense around his chest and shoulders. He had a pair of thin, faded scars beneath his pectorals, as well as others from various kinds of injuries. 

“Is that a phaser wound?” Julian asked, stroking over a patch of warped skin on his stomach. 

“You have such a fanciful imagination. It was a mere cooking accident - a splash of hot oil from a pan,” Garak said, putting on an innocent expression that he had to know would frustrate Julian. Which was almost certainly why he did it. 

Garak shifted back on the sofa so he was sitting more side-on, and Julian could kneel on the cushions to undo his own belt and trousers and shove them down. 

His hot arousal pressed up against his underwear. 

Garak watched him undress with obvious appreciation, and undid his own trousers more slowly while he kept his eyes on Julian. 

“Are there things that are off-limits for you?” Julian asked, before he undressed properly. “I mean, if there’s anything you don’t want me to touch or say.” 

“You can touch whatever you like.” He shifted away from him a bit so he could push his trousers and underwear down, and looked away. “But you can probably imagine the kind of things I’ve been called during intercourse, and would rather not hear from someone whose opinion I tend to respect.”

“I’m not going to insult you,” Julian assured him. “I happen to like you quite a lot.” 

“Is that so?” Garak asked, as he slipped his clothes off and leaned back, bared before him. Julian pushed him down into the corner of the sofa and kissed him. His skin pressed up against Garak’s cool, smooth scales as their thighs slid together. 

“Do you need to ask?” 

He stroked down Garak’s bare thigh, exploring the texture of the scales, then the soft layer beneath, and the muscle beneath that. Garak was doing the same with him. Cool fingers played over his ribs and squeezed at his hips and thighs, and stroked up and down his back as they kissed. It was a beautiful feeling, to touch and be touched, knowing what was to come but not rushing the inevitable, just letting it build between them. 

Julian looked into his eyes for a moment, the cold blue watching him back with a split-second of emotion, of connection. 

It broke when Garak sank his hand into Julian’s hair and pulled him down again to bite and suck on his lips. 

“Are you going to keep me waiting, Julian?” 

“Give me a minute, I have to ask you-”

“I have not been fertile for many years, nor am I infected with anything,” Garak cut in. “Do hurry.”

“I thought you were all about patience,” Julian teased. “Give me a second to find the lube.” 

“There is a time for patience, and there is a time for action,” Garak informed him. His hand slid smoothly down Julian’s spine and beneath his underwear to squeeze his rear while he searched blindly under the sofa to find the lube he’d dropped there a week ago. 

Garak’s movements pulled his underwear tighter against his erection and Julian pressed forward to rub it against his thigh. His hand closed around the bottle under the sofa and he sat up straight again. He kissed Garak desperately to make up for the few seconds he hadn’t been focused on him, and dug his fingers into the wide plated scaling that protected his hip.

“So well-prepared. I’d be impressed if I thought you kept your lubricant beneath the sofa with the intention of using it on me alone.” 

Julian just raised his brows. “Do you want me to prepare you, or not?” 

Garak gave him an innocent smile that still managed to be both filthy and charming, and spread his thighs. 

Julian squeezed some lubricant out onto his hand and made sure his fingers were slick before approaching the dark, shining grey slit between Garak’s legs. He ran his finger up and down on either side and felt Garak breathe in sharply at the sensation. 

Then, slowly, he slid two fingers into the hot, wet space. 

Garak tensed slightly, each of his muscles tightening beneath Julian, then leaned back into the armrest with a sigh, eyes drifting closed as Julian gently worked his fingers in and around. 

“You’re certain you haven’t been with a Cardassian before?” he asked. His voice had taken on a low, rumbling timbre that sent a shot of something hot through Julian. 

“There’s a first time for everything.” 

“Beginner’s luck, then.”

“I’m not a beginner at _ this,” _ Julian said.

“Clearly.”

Garak palmed Julian through his underwear. He traced out the shape through the fabric and stroked up and down his aching cock. 

“You’re teasing again,” Julian tightly said. Garak hummed, eyes still closed. 

“I have to entertain myself somehow. Oh-” Garak sighed suddenly when Julian’s fingers sank deeper. “Good, that’s good.”

He stroked the softer skin of Garak’s inner thigh while he worked, enjoying the look of utter calm pleasure on his face. 

“Julian- hmm.” Julian had flexed his fingers deeper in a particular way and he cut himself off to hum. “Julian. I’m very, very prepared.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Very.” 

Julian drew his fingers out, the moisture cooling in the air. He felt Garak’s thigh twitch beneath his other hand and lowered his head to kiss the soft skin. 

“Come here,” Garak murmured. He spread his thighs wider again to accommodate Julian between them and tilted back so Julian could look down at him while he kissed him. 

His hands snaked quietly around Julian’s back and slowly, teasingly, pulled down his underwear for him, exposing first his rear and then his erection to the air. The cold was a surprise at first, but then made him feel stiffer and he moaned into a kiss when Garak kneaded a sensitive spot on the back of his thighs, just below his buttocks. 

The head of his cock leaked slightly as it grazed Garak’s stomach, waiting, growing less patient by the minute as the anticipation built. 

Garak slid his thumb up and down Julian’s length and pulled him close for a deep, harsh kiss that bit hard into his lip.

He took the lube from where Julian had discarded it on the sofa and poured some into his palm. 

“Let me help you.” Garak closed his slick hand around Julian’s cock and massaged up and down until it was coated and Julian was barely breathing with pulsing arousal from the feeling of being so casually touched. 

“You’re- fuck.” He had to hide his face in Garak’s shoulder for a second to catch his breath. “You’re ready?” 

“Don’t make me beg,” Garak said, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “At least not yet.” 

He found himself guided towards the slit, which was leaking its own natural lubricant by now, shining and slightly swollen and hot when the head of his cock brushed against the soft tissue. 

It sent a jolt straight up into his abdomen.

Julian tried to ease slowly at first, but when Garak grabbed his arse and pulled he had no choice but to thrust straight in. 

Garak’s hand tightened in his hair almost painfully as he grunted in pleasure and pulled himself closer, clenching tighter around the base of Julian’s cock, surrounding him, completely consuming him with his kiss and his rough hands and his body and his  _ everything.  _

“Can I move?” Julian gasped. 

_ “Please.”  _

He slowly rocked his hips back and forth. Each moment of friction where he slid out and then deeper in was rougher and more excruciatingly perfect than the next. 

Garak’s fingers dug hard into his hip. 

He felt teeth in his shoulder as often as he felt lips.

“If I’d known you’d react this favourably, I would have given up on subtlety a long time ago,” Garak said, between kisses and bites and heavy breaths against his neck. 

“You mean be  _ straightforward  _ about something you  _ want?”  _ Julian punctuated his breathless words with a long, deep thrust. “Doesn’t sound like you.”

Garak hummed and tipped his head back when Julian sucked on the ridge on his neck.

“There are times, my dear, when one must sacrifice one’s principles for the greater good.” 

“I’m glad to know the Cardassian government considers fucking me to be part of the greater good.” 

“Mm. I doubt it. But it is  _ certainly  _ good.” 

Garak seemed content to take his time, to luxuriate in slowly taking in every inch of Julian as patiently and methodically as he ate. 

He was going to have bruises in the morning; Garak’s fingers dug into his thighs and waist and shoulders, his teeth grazed along Julians neck. The pain was light enough that it sent gentle stabs of heat through his body from every point of contact. 

“Something you might like to know about Cardassians, Julian…we’re very durable.” 

“Hm?” 

Garak tugged on Julian’s hair to get him to look at him. 

“That’s a polite way of saying you don’t have to be so gentle with me.” 

The biting apparently went both ways. 

He rocked forwards harder and dug his nails into Garak’s back, feeling the thick scales there ripple beneath his fingers as he scraped down.

“Perfect, just like that.” 

“Oh, I’m perfect now, am I? Earlier I was a blind slave to narrow-minded human morality.” 

“You’ve demonstrated that you’re capable of having your eyes opened.” 

“This has certainly been-” Julian gasped as Garak pushed upwards, matching his thrust faster than he anticipated and forcing the friction to work harder in the place they were joined. “Eye-opening.” 

“Thoroughly.” 

He leaned over to bite at the low, decorative ridges he admired on Garak’s chest, ridges that flushed dark blue around the places he gave attention to. 

His groin throbbed with a pulsing kind of heat that had built and felt as though it was on the edge of spilling out every time Garak ground his hips upwards against him. 

“Elim…”

“Hmm.” 

“Are you close? Because I’m-“ 

“Mm. Please, go ahead.” 

Julian laughed slightly at how polite and jovial he sounded. He bowed his head so Garak could nip at his ear and neck and jaw, and he allowed that sharp pleasure to build in the parts of his thighs where Garak stroked him. 

He allowed it to build in his groin where they were joined, Garak completely consuming him, pulling him in with his maddening words and rough hands. 

He allowed it to build, 

And build,

And build,

And burst out of him in a hot rush that spread across his whole body. He became aware of the layer of cool sweat across every inch of his skin. He felt every bruise and toothmark, every place Garak’s skin was pressed against his. 

Come dripped out as he pulled out of Garak and slumped limply against him, eyes closed, soaking up the pleasure that sank lazily beneath his skin. 

“Did you-?”

Garak gave a satisfied hum, and Julian felt the vibration of it in his chest. 

“I’m not too heavy, am I?” 

“So many questions,” Garak sighed. He lifted Julian off him by the shoulders with no effort and set him back down slightly closer to the back of the sofa. Julian settled into the small nook between Garak’s now warm, sweat-slicked body and the velvety fabric of the back of the sofa, and rested his head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t suppose you keep your post-coital necessities beneath this sofa as well, do you?” Came Garak’s voice after a while. It was subdued, lazy in a way Garak never usually spoke. 

“Actually, if you feel around a bit...” 

Garak frowned down at him, and reached under the sofa as instructed. He produced a clean towel and raised his brows at Julian. 

“Let me.” Julian took it and gently dabbed up the mess that had pooled on the sofa and between Garak’s thighs. He folded it up and set over the damp patch so they wouldn’t have to lie in it. When he glanced up again, he saw Garak looking down at him with a somewhat suspicious expression. 

“Am I to gather that you left these items here because you assumed this evening would proceed in precisely this manner?” 

“Well, not exactly. I left them here last week. But I did choose not to move them before you came.” 

“Federation optimism,” Garak muttered, and closed his eyes again. 

Julian settled in for a long, quiet doze, and took his time stroking the soft scales of Garak’s stomach. His fingers trailed over the waxy burn on his side, which he was almost certain was in fact a phaser burn. He wondered for a while about how Garak really got it. 

Then his attention shifted up to his chest, and the thick grey scales, and the twin scars. 

“Do you mind if I…?” 

Julian brushed the skin just under one of the scars. 

“As I said, you can touch whatever you like.” 

It was possible for badly-done surgeries to leave scars, but these days, almost none of them would, and Cardassians were ahead of the rest of the Quadrant when it came to cosmetic surgery. 

“I have to say, I thought you would have been aware of my condition. You have my medical scans on file,” Garak said. 

“Do you really think I would take advantage of having access to my patients’ private, personal information just to satisfy my curiosity about their genitals?” He asked. 

“Some would.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t,” Julian said, a bit insulted now. He made a note to ask Garak for his full medical history later. Doing it now would probably stretch the bounds of ethics. 

Garak turned a bit so he could kiss Julian. 

There was a very self-satisfied look on his face as he ran his thumb down Julian’s jaw. 

“Do you suppose this is what Chief O’Brien wanted to warn you about?” He sounded so ordinary and conversational that Julian had to laugh. 

“I can always comm him to ask,” he said, kissed him more softly than he had before. 

“Be my guest,” Garak smiled into the kiss. 

***

“I cannot believe you’re actually defending this drivel.” 

“Drivel? Garak, Shakespeare is one of the cornerstones of human literature!” 

“I rest my case,” Garak said, spreading his hands as though that proved his point. “Humans are all so focused on superficial relationships that you miss even the most obvious of subtleties.” 

Julian was gearing up to start a whole new rant about speciesism when he caught sight of Miles over Garak’s shoulder, watching him with an alarmed expression. Julian smiled and waved. Miles nodded awkwardly, then strode off to be somewhere that Julian and Garak weren’t. 

Garak noticed and smiled rather smugly at Julian. “You were saying?” 

“I was saying, you’re completely wrong. You’re so wrong that it would take more than my next three lunch hours to explain why. But I’m going to try it anyway.” 

“I’m honoured, doctor,” Garak said, and they both leaned in to enjoy the argument. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! let me know what you think!


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